The Duchess and the Detective
by Rebel Cinderella
Summary: Molly Hooper is tired of waiting for Sherlock to notice her, but what can she do? Turns out a lot, and Sherlock is in for a big surprise.
1. Molly Hooper Plots

The Duchess and the Detective

**A/N: I first planned this story when my other Sherlock fan fiction, An Unlikely Distraction, was still a baby and I was enjoying the ship for all its potential. It's now onto 10k words and the ship brings me joy to write about, especially when I get amazing reviews. This romance is going to be a little bit of a twist; Molly is tired of waiting for Sherlock to pay attention to her, so she takes matters into her own hands, with some interesting consequences...**

Prologue: Molly Hooper plots

Three years. THREE YEARS! I cannot believe I have sat here pining for this stupid man for three whole years and he still hasn't noticed. I've tried lipstick, dates, coffee, even getting a new boyfriend, but nothing seems to work. The great Sherlock Holmes is impervious to my feminine charms.

But, do you know what? I'm tired of this. Tired of him underestimating me as Lestrade looks on in pity. He might not pay attention to me, but he'll pay attention to her. I never thought I'd have to bring her into the real world, and maybe I should have done this a long time ago, but tonight it ends. Sherlock Holmes, prepare to meet the real Molly Hooper.

**A/N: All very cryptic, all very cloak and dagger. What is Miss Molly Hooper talking about? Who is this she? What has she got planned? Is Sherlock worth it? Feel free to inundate me with questions and theories, but rest assured, everything will become clear in due course.**


	2. Dead Man Walking?

**A/N: Wow. The response to such a small opening chapter has been phenomenal! I've had followers from "An Unlikely Distraction" join in and some new faces too! Ah, it's really making me enjoy updating so I can speak to all you lovely people! :') This story is going to be a little different than my last one, and it may go horribly wrong, but I am going to give it a shot. Ta-ta! :p**  
**Ps. Sneak peak next chapter preview for anyone who gets the intertextual joke I have slipped into the storyline.**

**Chapter 1: Dead Man Walking?**

"BORED!"  
Yet again, Sherlock was shooting bullets at the wall. John tried not to flinch as the crack of the trigger and the whistle of the bullet leaving the barrel echoed around the room. Mrs Hudson hadn't been best pleased the last time Sherlock did this, and Dr John Watson didn't think she would be now. To be honest, it was a wonder he even still had the flat with some of his goings-on.  
The sound of the gun hitting the table and Sherlock grumbling roused him from his thoughts.  
"Whsts the matter, Sherlock? Did shooting the wall get too boring for you?"  
Sherlock scowled at him.  
"Save your petty jokes for someone who cares." he threw back before walking into his room and slamming the door.

Some people are so touchy, thought John, as he got back to the copy of The Hobbit he was reading for the thousandth time. He had almost forgotten that Sherlock and his flat was never anything less than a war zone when DI Lestrade walked in.

"Alright John? Where is he?" he nodded at the army doctor, looking very stressed.

John merely pointed at the door before getting back to his book.  
"SHERLOCK. Come out, I have a puzzle for you."  
"BORED!" came the indignant reply.

"Well, I am sure you'll come across dead bodies robbing mansions in Surrey every day of week. I'm sorry to have bothered you. " the Detective Inspector, mocking subservience, replied, mentally counting down the seconds until Sherlock stuck his head out of the door.

9..8...7...6...

"I'm sure it can't be a dead man, Lestrade." Sherlock said, opening the door a fraction.

"Well, the fingerprints belong to a man processed three weeks ago as a suicide and the burglary was committed last night. £3.5 million worth of diamonds, jewels and various trinkets was stolen. If anyone can tell me how a dead man suddenly climbs out of his grave and robs a wealthy member of parliament and then vanishes again, I'm sure you can."

There was a beat of silence in the room before...

"AT LAST!" Sherlock yelled. "Something interesting! A dead man walks and Mrs Hudson's wall can live to see another day.

As he rushed down the stairs and hailed a taxi, It was all the Detective Inspector and the Doctor could do to keep up with him.

**A/N: Dead bodies robbing stuff now? Creepy. I'm guessing nobody has figured what this has to do with a romance between Molly and Sherlock, but clues are there. For those of you who have followed both my Sherlolly stories, I do apologise. Your inbox is going to get destroyed this holiday. Loving the responses though! You guys are awesome. RC**A


	3. Who's that Girl?

The Duchess and the Detective  
**A/N: It is virtually criminal how long I have taken to update this story, but I don't really like updating stories unless I feel I have at least a skeleton idea of how I want the chapter to work, and I have finally figured out how to shape the next couple of chapters. To recap: Molly is trying new tactics to get Sherlock to take notice of her, and Sherlock has been intrigued by a case which involves a walking dead body. This is a lot different to my other story An Unlikely Distraction and I think what I have in store will be a great character progression for Molly. If you are still following this story, thank you for keeping up and being so patient. Hopefully the next few chapters will let you see why you did.**

**Who's that Girl?**

In her blood red dress, Molly Hooper-Ramone, The Duchess of Salisbury, knew she looked stunning. With the amount of dresses she had, she knew anything less was criminal. As she paused at the top of the two-part staircase in the mansion of her best friend, Sally Donovan, the Duchess of Bloomsbury, she wondered which young men would be paying attention to her tonight. Ever since she had had a makeover and got a personal trainer, a lot of men had been paying attention to her, especially Lord James Moriarty. She wasn't particularly interested in his advances, but a girl never turned down an ego boost. She had even seen her best friend's uncle, Duke Gregory Lestrade, taking a couple of second and third glances at her, but she saw him as an extended father figure and did not really regard it as true interest.

In fact, if Molly was honest with herself, there was only one man she really wanted to be seen with, and to see her. Lord Sherlock Xavier Henry Holmes, Earl of Marylebone. Tall, raven haired, blue eyed and chisel-jawed, Lord Holmes was widely known to be the smartest man in the British aristocracy. It was said that Duke Lestrade kept plying him to do some occasional work with MI5 or MI6 but that Lord Holmes was never interested in doing anything other than using his genius and intellect for sleights of hand at the card table and predicting which horses would win each of the major racing meets. To be honest, it was just as well, Molly thought to herself, because if he did bother to get involved in police or intelligence work, Molly Hooper-Holmes would be less of a resident in Mayfair and more of a resident in HM Pentonville or HM Holloway.

She fingered her diamond earrings nervously. As long as Amelia didn't check her jewellery box too closely, she would never know anything was missing.

Molly walked down the stairs.

In her bathroom at home with a glass of red wine and Cody Chestnutt playing in the background, Molly smiled to herself. It was good to be the centre of attention, even if it was only in one's dreams.

**A/N: I know how these two are going to end in this story, and I am so excited. I think it will be an interesting ride for you guys, as this drama/romance won't be as clean cut as An Unlikely Distraction or its sequel My Super Evil Ex Boyfriend but it might even be more entertaining. Has anybody noticed the blatant "plot bunnies" I have left in this chapter? If you haven't, read back to Amelia, the jewellery box and the fact that Molly Hooper-Ramone is a duchess, and the whole point of this story will become achingly clear. Ehehehe. You guys are great. Xoxo Rebel Cinderella.**


	4. Dead Man Walking? Part 2

**The Duchess and the Detective **

**A/N: It's good news for followers of this story, because I am in the frame of mind to tap out a lot of this story and get you guys to the crux of what is actually happening here. I won't lie, as I sit here writing this author's note, I am very excited as to how i am going to allow my idea to unfold, especially as it is a little bit strange, but we shall see.**

**Dead Man Walking Part 2**

"So you say, Lestrade, that this corpse is the man whose fingerprints we found on the door handle, various places around the house and on the safe where the jewels and other items were stolen from."

"Yes, Sherlock, the forensic-."

"Since I have to assume that Anderson is heading up your forensic team, I have to treat the forensic team as though they were nursery school children at a Stephen Hawking lecture. Firstly: what jewel thief or even opportunistic burglar worth their salt would leave fingerprints all around the house practically leaving themselves to be identified? Secondly: was the crime actually committed last night or did this man commit the burglary three weeks ago and kill himself over the guilt? Thirdly: Why this man? Is there something important about this particular dead man that links back to this crime other than the possibility he may have done it? Why this house, why this MP? Who was he? When you can give me the answers to these important questions then the quicker we shall solve this case. "  
Sherlock swung around on his heels, his long overcoat swinging just above his ankles, and swept out of the room, John and his stick following along behind him.

"What happened just now, Sherlock? One minute you are all enthusiasm about the possibility of a dead man robbing an MP of nearly £4 million worth of jewels, and now you are treading all over Lestrade about the tedium of the case as though this is a simple cat being stuck up a tree." John could not believe his friend and flatmate could suddenly lose interest so quickly over such an interesting case.  
"Think it through John. Cases which start off being boring and unsatisfactory always end us as the most entertaining. Remember the disappearing banker? Or the Hound of the Baskervilles? Hardly anything to write home about to begin with, but front page worthy by the end, wouldn't you agree?"

John could do nothing but nod, wondering what his friend was getting at.

"On the other side of the coin, you have what appears to be a corpse robbing the home of a prominent member of the Conservative government of nearly £4 millon pounds worth of his jewels and jewellery. Bizarre, intriguing, costly and news-worthy. Something so apparently promising can only be disappointing further down the line and thus, until Lestrade can answer the questions I have posed to him, I have no further interest in this case. Now, how does one go about getting a taxi out of here?"  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock sat in the taxi staring out of the window. Something about this case did not sit right with him. It was always his experience that whatever was on the surface of a case was never the true story, and something as bizarre as a kleptomanic corpse was certainly a diversion for something more, but he could not yet figure it out. What could somebody be covering up that would leave them to commit such a uniquely constructed plan? Was it really about covering a larger crime, or was this another Moriarty situation, where it was less about the crime itself and more about being audacious and headline-grabbing? Sherlock did not know whether he could handle another Moriarty type figure, he had nearly lost everything with the original. Sherlock shifted in his seat. No, the quicker this became clearer to him, the easier he would sleep at night.

**A/N: I thought I would dumb down Sherlock's initial excitement of the case because it is only a smoke-screen to get Sherlock's attention and not the main focus of the story. Never fear if you are disappointed by this though, because his interest will be re-piqued in the next couple of the story, when we really get started on the romance side of things hehe. I also thought I would make Sherlock seem more human with regard to Moriarty. We don't always get to see how shaken Sherlock gets by Moriarty but, no matter how much of a sociopath somebody is, I don't think Moriarty could leave them unaffected forever. I don't think Moriarty scares him as such, but Sherlock is unsettled by him. Oh, to clear it up, this is set after The Reichenbach Fall happened, hence the "Sherlock did not know whether he could handle another Moriarty type figure, he had nearly lost everything with the original." :) :) xoxo**


	5. Contacted by Royalty

**The Duchess and the Detective **

**A/N: Alright, we have dilly-dallied enough. Time to bring in the beginnings of the Molly and Sherlock interaction because I feel I have teased you guys long enough. Nobody has yet figured out what the heck is going on, but I hope once it all unfolds, you guys will think that it is genius and clever and exactly the type of thing that would make Sherlock fall in love...or at least keep interest...maybe...HEY I need to keep you guys in suspense somehow :P **

**Chapter 5: Contacted by Royalty**

"Tonight on BBC News, Scotland Yard are reported to be baffled after the fingerprints of a deceased man were found at the scene of a robbery committed at the home of Sebastian Alperton-Moss, prominent Conservative MP, late last night. Forensic experts have dismissed claims that this crime went unnoticed for at least three weeks or more, saying that tests have proved that oils in the fingerprints date them no more than 48 hours ago; despite the death of the man 3 weeks ago. Police are still searching for a link between the dead man and Mr Alperton-Moss, as well as trying to figure out how the fingerprints were placed there after the current suspect's death, if that is truly the case.  
John switched off the television and turned to Sherlock, who was sat hunched in the armchair.

"Are you still convinced that this case is simply a smokescreen for the proverbial cat stuck up a tree?"

"When something comes up that convinces me that this case is not simply hysteria and incompetence, then I'll bite."

"Sherlock Holmes, how many times have I told you that I am not your housekeeper? You're lucky that this letter had such a strong perfume on it or I would have left it sitting there until you deigned to pick it up." Mrs Hudson brushed through the room, dropping the post on the side table next to Sherlock's arm chair.

"And you have been shooting at my walls again?! What am I going to do with you?!"

"I do apologise, Mrs Hudson, it won't happen again." Sherlock smiled widely at his landlady who grumbled loudly and left the room once more.  
"What are you grinning about, Sherlock. Mrs Hudson is gearing up to kick us out of the flat and you think this is You've Been Framed?"  
"My dear John Watson," Sherlock replied, holding up the violet envelope with blood red seal. "We have been contacted by royalty."

**A/N: Please keep reading and reviewing, it makes me so happy when you guys do! I notice my follow button has been going up steadily, which is very pleasing. Does anybody know what's going on yet? Does anybody care? Any reviews or PMs that try to guess will be read and answered I promise. xoxo Rebel Cinderella**


	6. To Sherlock,with Love

The Duchess and The Detective

Chapter 6: To Sherlock, with love

_Dear Mr Holmes, _

_I am so glad I finally have your attention. It has been so long since you had a truly interesting case to deal with, hasn't it? Well I am very glad to oblige you. You are a very intelligent man, Mr Holmes, and as we both know, dead men don't walk by themselves. Do they? Scotland Yard will never be able to figure this out on their own, and I don't want them to. This is about you and me...and Dr Watson if you really need him. _

_I want to play games with you, Mr Holmes, and not all of them of the criminal variety. Do you want to play? Even if you don't think you do right now, I bet you will soon, even if you don't know it yet. You love your puzzles, Sherlock, I know you do. I can provide you with so many puzzles. In fact, the puzzle of the kleptomanic corpse is only a mask for a much bigger puzzle; one that has been staring you in the face for a number of years now. You don't realise it is a puzzle, but solving it will only be the beginning of your fun._

_You want to know who I am, don't you? Who is this mysterious voice who knows things and taunts you and draws you into the web? Moriarty was the least of your problems, Mr Holmes, because he only wanted you to prove a point. Me, I want you for keeps. And I intend to make sure that I succeed. Come into my web, Mr Holmes, it really has been too long, Mr Holmes, and I am not a patient person. _

_To Sherlock, with love._

_**The Duchess **_

**A/N: Well, well, well. Somebody wants Sherlock's attention, and they want it BAD. There is a couple of innuendos there, so feel free to fan yourself wherever you think appropriate. Hahaha. I don't even know what else to say in this author's note other than PLEASE REVIEW. xoxo Rebel Cinderella **


	7. The Regal Lady in the Blood Red Dress

The Duchess and the Detective

Chapter 7

The Regal Lady in the Blood Red Dress

**A/N: I have had one person, booklover669, crack the plot of what's going on in this story, so congratulations! I must admit, it is a little more challenging writing this story than it was writing **_**An Unlikely Distraction **_**because there is a criminal element involved and I have to make sure everything stacks up the way a proper Sherlock episode would. It's going to be interesting to write Molly's character from here on in because she has to give off this air of vulnerability but also newfound confidence around Sherlock because this is set post **_**Reichenbach **_**and she now knows that she counts to him, even if it isn't the way she wants. Do let me know if something is working or not! **

"Sherlock, this cannot be good, there is no WAY this can be good."

"What's the matter, John, is it because you were only requested if _really needed?"_

"You're still an ass, Sherlock."

"You're welcome." Sherlock replied, smoothly.

"This woman sounds like the love-child of Moriarty and Irene Adler. _How _in _any _way can that be a good thing? She wants to play games with you, and not all of them criminal. What on earth does that mean? Who constructs a rotting corpse robbing an MP's house to cover up something else? What the hell could they be covering up? Sherlock, listen to me, just for once. Leave this alone. It won't end well. The last time you tangled with this kind of person, you faked your own death, witnessed a suicide and ended up falling in love with a danger-courting dominatrix. You really want to put yourself and everybody else around you through that again?"

Sherlock tried not to notice the truth behind John's words. The concept of a larger puzzle was too intriguing for him to ignore and he desperately wanted to know who this woman was that wanted to play with him.

John looked at his friend, suspicious of his quietness. There were times when he didn't know how to get through to Sherlock, and this is one of those times.

"I think we need to pay a visit to a certain doctor." Sherlock's voice broke the silence.

"Finally getting your head examined?" John retorted, worried out of his mind.

"Hmmm." Sherlock responded and left the room, John once again trailing behind him.

Molly Hooper was in the pathology lab examining the scarred arms and legs of a newly arrived corpse when two men walked into the lab.

"Dr Watson, hi!" She genuinely liked the man, and found his presence to be calming. Her grin got smaller as she noticed the taller man behind him.

"Sher...Sherlock, hi." Even though she had shielded the consulting detective from the prying eyes of the media and all his friends and family while everybody thought they were dead, the dynamic of their relationship hadn't much further than somewhat grateful friend to an unassuming friend. She had hoped that they could build open the connection she thought that they had made in the days before and during his self-imposed exile, but true to form, Sherlock only gave emotional access to himself as far as was needed and not a inch further. It made Molly sad.

"Molly, how _are _you? You look...different today. New lab coat?"

Inside, Molly rolled her eyes. How stupid did he really think she was? She knew every time he tried to manipulate her emotions to get something he wanted; and that was why the days surrounding his disappearance had been so special. They hadn't talked all that much; Sherlock preferring to keep track of Watson and the gang from afar to make sure they weren't in danger, but when they had, they had had intelligent, thoughtful exchanges and Molly had truly believed things might be different at work. Not so. Today, he seemed more preoccupied than usual.

"What do you need Sherlock?" she said out loud, with more nerves than she wished.

"I need a chair." Sherlock smiled. "May I?"

Molly stepped to the side and Sherlock swept past.

Molly sat in her office and watched as Sherlock conducted experiments around the morgue. He looked so happy that she couldn't help but smile. He was so regal and handsome. She imagined him in a pristine tuxedo, curls styled to perfection and cheekbones made to cut glass. That would definitely keep her going tonight, especially if he was dreaming of a regal lady in a blood red dress by his side.

Sherlock abruptly jumped out of the chair that he had John pushing him around in for the past 15 minutes, triumh on his face.

"Dead men don't walk, John, and they certainly don't rob houses. Not unless they are pushed."

John squinted at him. What the hell is he talking about? he thought.

**A/N: Some more plot bunnies there! Read and review? **


	8. Sherlock Enthralled

Chapter 8: Sherlock enthralled.

Sherlock sat in his room, re-reading the mysterious letter for what felt like the millionth time. He didn't know why he was so intrigued by the letter, but he couldn't stop reading it. He couldn't tell John about his interest in the Duchess because the last time he became so enthralled by a woman, she had turned out to be an associate for the madman consulting criminal James Moriarty.

Something stirred within him. "I want to play games with you, not all of them of the criminal variety." What other games were there? He didn't know, but he desperately wanted to find out. he hated not knowing something and somebody else knowing it.

The sweet smell of the perfume "Little Black Dress"that Mrs Hudson had identified had yet to fade from the letter, and Sherlock found that he desperately wanted to meet the woman behind the violet and blood red letter and find out what games she wanted to play with him.

Molly rinsed her hair and reached for the lavender scented shower gel she loved so much. Encased in a beautiful violet coloured bottle, she only used it when she really wanted to feel good about herself. That would explain why the bottle was virtually empty. She thought about the book she had on her bedside table. _The Duke's Reluctant Bride. _She loved reading stories about the aristocracy from any period, and often imagined herself in the female roles of the romance books she enjoyed to read. She never felt ashamed for reading such books because she was a qualified pathologist who played with corpses all day long. She needed some romance in her life. Some excitement. She thought about the new dress hanging in her wardrobe and the beautiful jewels that lay on her dressing table. She didn't have anywhere to wear the floor length crimson gown or the flawlessly cut diamond earrings, but it was nice to know she had something to wear if someone bothered to take the time to ask her out. Hopefully soon that would all change.


	9. The Man with the three feet long arms

**Chapter 9: The Man with the three foot long arms. **

**A/N: Ahaha. More people are putting the pieces together. GOODY. Now we all know how funny it's going to be (if I do it right) when Sherlock figures it out. I won't mention what it is here because that will give it away (obviously) but I **_**really **_**wish I could see Benedict Cumberbatch act out Sherlock's reaction when all the s*** hits the fan. :') So to recap, Sherlock's figured out that dead men **_**dont actually **_**rob houses, but how did he figure it out? Molly seems to like the finer things in life, and Mrs Hudson is great at identifying Avon perfumes. So far so unconnected right? Wrong. ;)**

"Tell me something, Lestrade. When you hired Anderson, did he _actually _have any qualifications?"

"What the hell are you getting at Sherlock?"

"I saw it when we went into the house originally, but I didn't _see _it until I was in the lab yesterday."

"Sometime today Sherlock." Lestrade sighed impatiently.

"All your men, Anderson included, were all kneeling down at a height of just below 3 feet correct?"

"Yes, so?"

"How tall was your main suspect, who I have to remind you is dead?"

"Just over 6 feet, why?"

"Never mind the fact that somebody would notice a 6 foot plus corpse robbing a member of parliament's home and that only an idiot or a _very clever person _would leave behind fingerprints in such an audacious robbery; what kind of person has arms of over 3 feet long?"

"What do you mean, arms of 3 feet long?"

"THINK, Lestrade. A man intent on robbing valuables from a big mansion would be careful to a)not leave any fingerprints and b) most likely be walking very quietly, no? So if he is over 6 feet tall and a proper burglar, what are his fingerprints doing three feet down?"

Lestrade's eyes bulged out of his head.

"Dead men don't walk, Lestrade. They can be pushed in a contraption of some kind, though... Somebody is making a statement and using bodies to do it."

"Who?" Lestrade demanded

"The Duchess." Sherlock responded, handing Lestrade the blood red and violet letter, grin a hundred watts bright.

"Who's that exactly?" Lestrade looked indignant and confused.

Sherlock's face fell. "I don't know." he muttered.

* * *

"Scotland Yard has reported tonight that, in the case of MP Sebastien Alperton-Moss and the house robbery, the forensics were in fact correct as previously stated and the dead man in question was used only as a smokescreen. Detectives and consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, who is aiding Scotland Yard in this matter, are said to be searching for someone known only as _The Duchess._ Prime Minister David Cameron is said to be pleased that the police force are taking such an interest in the bizarre unfoldings of the case, but anxious to have it wrapped up as soon as possible.


	10. S is for Spencer T is for Thomas

Chapter 10: S is for Spencer, T is for Thomas.

**A/N: For those of you who are reviewing in real time, you have probably have receiving PMs from me answering questions about the story so far. For those who have thanked me for successive updates, you are very welcome. For everyone trying valiantly to figure out which plot points are useful and which ones are merely part of the word count, I love an interactive story and you guys make it so. The next set of clues start unfolding in this chapter, and I am so enjoying writing this. Hopefully Sherlock's brain has been cataloguing everything that has been happening, because he is going to need it. **

_Dearest Sherlock, _

_You are so clever, aren't you? Some of the smoke is starting to clear. Of course dead men don't rob houses, but you already knew that. You know what's funny? Nobody has bothered to find out the name of the corpse. It's all suicide this and corpse robber that, but we should always make sure we have everything covered right? You never know what might be useful. _

_How are you liking my game, Mr Holmes? Are you getting any closer? Or are you staring so hard at the trees that you cant see the woods? The devil may be in the details, Mr Holmes, but you can't forget the big picture. I am so excited for the time you finally figure out what's going on. I can't wait to see your face. Do you want to meet me, Mr Holmes? Am I starting to slip into your dreams? Can you smell the perfume from my letters wherever you go? It's intoxicating, isn't it, Mr Holmes? Just like you. Welcome to my world, Mr Holmes. _

_Until next time, _

_To Sherlock with love. _

_The Duchess _

Sherlock woke up in a sweat. He had been dreaming that he was some kind of royal and his date was a tall woman in a blood red dress, and the perfume, that perfume was surrounding his senses. Clouding his judgement. The woman had no face, and as he searched for more defining features, everyone around him turned into her, men and women. It was only one of him surrounded by so many of her, faceless and taunting him with puzzles.

"The name of the corpse is Spencer Thomas. He was a lawyer for Corrington, Perry and Ryland, and he committed suicide after he lost a major divorce battle for socialite Kelly Kerrington and her ex-husband Sean Kerrington. It was said he lost his company £17 million."

"Why this man, why this house! What's the link? The Duchess said that names were important. What's so fascinating about Spencer Thomas? Was he friends with the family, an ex-boyfriend? The lawyer? Why can't you do your JOBS?"

Sherlock screamed at the room in general and the whole room went silent. Sherlock had been looking more and more stressed since he received the second letter, and it had become obvious that this was personal. This Duchess person was messing with Sherlock, and it scared everyone to see how far Sherlock would go to solve the case.

"Find out who Spencer Thomas is, or or dont bother contacting me."

**A/N: Sherlock is PISSED! Oh wow. The Duchess is f***ing with his mind, and this is only the beginning. Still to come: More crimes, more names and such a shock for Sherlock. Bless him, a part of me kinda wants to warn him...**


	11. Bertram Abbey Part 1

**Chapter 11: Bertram Abbey Part 1**

The next day, Molly was sat in the corner of her office polishing off the last chapter of _The Duke's Reluctant Bride _when Sherlock stormed into the lab. His mood had not changed since the day before, and it was beginning to affect those aorund him more than usual.

Sherlock took one glance at the bare chested duke and his pink clothed companion on the cover of the book.

"What on earth are you reading, Molly?"

"Uh..uh,just a romance novel. Nothing important." she stuttered quietly.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Well let's put that pathology brain to good use."

Molly looked pained. She never got used to Sherlock's acerbic ways.

"According to the records, a man named Spencer Thomas was brought here for autopsy. Did you perform it?"

"Spen-Spencer Thomas? Let me just check my books."

Molly scuttled back into her office and Sherlock blew an impatient breath. Molly was such a smart girl, and she had helped him out when it was needed, but this meek persona she had around him wore on his last nerve. He wasn't going to bite her, and the sooner she realised that the better.

"No, I didnt. Ive checked some of the other logs and John Harrison was the one who conducted the autopsy."

John Harrison was a newly qualified pathologist who was well known for his left wing stances and theories on the redistribution of wealth.

"So it is possible that John Harrison used the body of a well-known lawyer to make a statement about the wealth of Alperton-Moss and to hit back at those "undeserving." Sherlock mused out loud.

Molly smiled at him, knowing not to say anything else for fear of sounding stupid in front of him.

"But then, how does The Duchess figure into all this? Is it a red herring for John Harrison or is John Harrison a red herring for The Duchess? And why is the _name _Spencer Thomas so important? Eurgh!"

Molly had a bright idea "Maybe there's a connection between-"

But Sherlock had already left the room.

Sherlock was back, curled on the sofa, in his pyjamas, words whirling around his head, ideas and patterns that didn't seem to fit. In the corner, Watson's tapping punctuated the silence. A cough joined the keyboard.

"Sherlock?"

"Did I not tell you to not contact me unless you had a link?"

"We have a new case- and a new letter."

"A new letter?!" Sherlock's interest in one but not the other was clear.

"It was delivered to the station today for your attention. We have another jewel robbery."

"Why to the station? Why not to my house as per the rest? Where's the robbery?"  
"I don't know, I don't know and Bertram Abbey."

_Mr Holmes, _

_You may be wondering why this latest letter wasn't delivered to your house like the last two, right? What can I say, I know you. How else would I draw you to the scene of the next crime unless you knew it was connected to me? Lestrade isn't the smartest of men, but he is such a useful pawn to have. He did exactly as I hoped, and now you're walking down my path. _

_Do you like the scenery Mr Holmes? The view at the end of the path is stunning, if I do say so myself. Remember, Mr Holmes, the devil is in the details, but you can't miss out on the bigger picture. Nothing is as it seems, Mr Holmes, yet everything is as it seems. _

_Please solve it soon, Mr Holmes, because the games that come after the completion are so much better than the ones that come before._

_I'm dying for you to meet me. _

_To Sherlock, with love._

_The Duchess_

**A/N: Yes, I stole Benedict's character's name from Star Trek Into Darkness. No remorse :P. I hope you guys are enjoying the merry dance down the Duchess's path. I am worried that this may be dragging out too long, but I need to make at least one more crime before the current plot point is revealed. Names are very very important, if you look at the right ones. **


	12. Bertram Abbey Part 2

**Chapter 12: Bertram Abbey Part 2**

**A/N: Spencer Thomas. Bertram Abbey. John Harrison. The Duchess. At least one of these is a red herring. But Sherlock doesn't know which one, but do you guys? There is no Sherlolly yet, but in the second half of the story, there will be a lot of Sherlolly and a lot of shock and romance and confusion and re-evaluation of friends. I apologise profusely if you guys are getting impatient for romance and fluff and stuff, but sometimes you need to plant the seeds before the trees can grow. It's not more than a few chapters away, I promise. Please, please, please stick with it. **

Bertram Abbey was a stunning gothic era listed buildng on the edge of West London and Surrey. The stomping ground of some of the aristocracy's young and fabulous, it was reputed to have several items of historc value on the grounds. At the moment though, the worth of the grounds, in Sherlock's eyes, had gone down significantly, as Anderson was currently roaming around the building dusting for more fingerprints.

Sally Donovan walked out of the entrance and looked Sherlock up and down.

"Evening, freak. Dr Watson."  
"Ah, Sergeant Donovan, pleasant as always."  
"Anyway, a selection of rubies and emeralds have been taken from the main drawing room safe, and all that was left was this."  
Sally held up a bottle of Little Black Dress perfume, which was nearly empty, and Sherlock stalked into the house.

As Sherlock walked into the main drawing room, where Anderson now was, the scent of The Duchess's letters hit him like chloroform.

"It's her, or something to do with her. She was here. This is her scent. She's toying with me _damnit. _It's all CONNECTED!" Spencer Thomas, Bertram Abbey, John Harrison and The Duchess are all linked, but _how?!"_

"Does this help?" Anderson, in a very rare move, approached Sherlock, with a blood red rose in his hand tied with a violet ribbon.

"Anderson, you've actually proved yourself to be useful. The scent, the flower, the colours, it's all connected...Spencer Thomas, Bertram Abbey, John Harrison, the Duchess..."

Sherlock went quiet, as he went to his mind palace.

"OH! How could I be so blind?"

"Sherlock?" John and Lestrade said in unison.

"All this time, I have been wondering who The Duchess might be. But of course that's the red herring. I was double bluffed. The Duchess seems like the obvious red herring, too obvious for me to consider it to be a red herring, it was there and not there. Oh! Spencer Thomas, Bertram Abbey. Think about it, John. If you were spelling something out. John Harrison works at St Barts, and the pertinent names- Spencer Thomas- ST. Bertram Abbey-BA. I am certain that something will turn up involving the letters RTS. The corpse was examined while he was on duty, he had perfect access. The Duchess as John Harrison is calling himself is sending us a game within a game within another game. He wants me to find him, so he is spelling out the hospital. The female persona was a clever diversion, which was masked in the clever diversion of a kleptomanic corpse. We would spend so long finding out who the corpse was and then trying to find this Duchess person that the task at hand could be completed, but the clues weren't so obscure that he wouldn't be labelled for it. It's about the infamy and the cause. Oh, it was all about the work. I can appreciate that. Lestrade, I believe I have solved the case of the kleptomanic corpse."

"As per usual, Sherlock saves the day." Lestrade smiled with some warmth. "I guess we have a pathologist to arrest."

Sherlock turned to John and smiled. "Shall we go, John? I believe I have a wall to pay for."

**A/N: Sherlock's solved the case right? John Harrison stole the body for his first case and then left the links to the Duchess on the second case right? Sherlock is so clever, right? Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. He has some of it right, but the rest- HA. Oh, Sherlock. What will we do with you?**


	13. The Royal Tennis Society

Chapter 13: The Royal Tennis Society

**A/N: Ok, so the first half of the story is finally done. Sherlock's "solved" the case, and it's business as usual, right? Molly has other ideas. Time to start bringing in the fluff and hearts, people.**

"I am a genius, John, and nobody should doubt me." Sherlock strode into the kitchen, skull in hand.

"If this latest letter is anything to go by, you're probably right, much as I hate to say it."

"Another letter?" Sherlock turned around and stared at John,who silently handed him the letter.

_Mr Holmes,_

_You are a very smart man, aren't you? You managed to figure out there was a red herring. Shame you picked the wrong one. What did I say to you, Mr Holmes? You spent so long on the details, you didn't see the bigger picture. Or maybe you spent so long on the bigger picture that you didn't see the details. You decide. A girl can't wait forever, Mr Holmes, I told you, I'm not a patient woman. So I am going to speed this up a little; like I said, this is only the beginning of the games; most of the fun is had once you get to the end of the path. And so, I am going to present myself to you, exactly as you wish, but you will only see me if you have been paying attention. Not all the clues you will see, but you will see enough if you look carefully. How's that for a puzzle, Mr Holmes? With this letter, I have enclosed two tickets for the Royal Tennis Society gala and Dinner. I'm sure you expected the RTS, because you're a smart man. Smart enough to attend and look closely. _

_I can't wait to see you, my dear. _

_To Sherlock, with love. _

_The Duchess. _

"You clean up well, Sherlock." Sally Donovan, looking resplendent in a white floor length gown, smiled at the detective.

"If only this case would clean itself as well as you say I do, then we could all sleep at night." Sherlock, as ever, ignored the compliment in favour of more important things.

"Who interesting even plays tennis anyway?" Sherlock bit out after a moment of silence.

"I think Molly said she used to play a bit in college." Lestrade pointed out, looking suave in his tuxedo.

Sherlock didn't respond. He was too busy trying to detect the scent of every woman who happened to walk in his vicinity, anxious to discover the woman who had fooled him and played him like a fiddle.

"Speaking of which, where is Molly anway? She's meant to be here with the rest of us. I mean it is her morgue's body that got stolen."

"She got stuck in traffic, bless her soul. Sometimes I wonder at you, Sherlock. She saved you when you had no choice, and you still act like an android." Lestrade cut his eyes to Sherlock, who had the decency to look guilty.

Molly had in fact already arrived at the gala and watched the group from a side entrance. Lestrade, Sherlock and Dr Watson all looked handsome in tuxedos, while Sergeant Donovan had a white rose in her hair and a white off the shoulder dress. Molly looked down at her own blood red gown, and her diamond earrings and hoped she looked the part. The violet corsage on her wrist completed the look. The devil in the red dress, she thought, and smiled.

**A/N: It's all coming dangerously close now. Hahahaha. **


	14. This is my game & i'm calling the shots

**Chapter 14 This is My Game and I'm Calling the Shots. **

**A/N: S***s about to go down. Nuff said. **

Throughout the evening, Sherlock had stared at the ladies in the room, something that amused Lestrade and John highly. Molly kept tripping over her ball gown and blushing furiously, before fleeing early in embarassment and Sally had found herself the centre of attention by a group of very eligible young men. The entire case was nothing more a wide goose chase, designed to waste his time. He flounced into his room and lay face first on the bed, without turning on the light.

"I would have thought tonight's clues would have helped you solve the case." a voice came out of the darkness.

Sherlock sat bolt upright.

"But sometimes I suppose, if you aren't looking at the right things, then you don't see what's right in front of you, do you?"

"Molly?" Sherlock whispered, very confused.

Molly turned on the lamp, and gone was the shy woman who Sherlock recognised. In her place was a very confident-looking, very indignant and very _triumphant _Molly Hooper.

"You see, Sherlock, for someone who is so clever, you're a bit of an idiot. I spelt it out for you _literally. _I gave you visual aids. I even made it abundantly clear, and still you didn't recognise me."

Sherlock's face twisted in confusion.

"Go on, you can do it, I know you can. Go to that little mind palace of yours and figure it out. I'll even help you if you like."

Sherlock's brain frittered through all the facts of the case. St Barts. John Harrison. The Duchess. Little Black Dress perfume. The letters. The jewellery. The dead body. The colours. The romance book. _The romance book. _

"It looks like you've cracked it, you clever man."

"_The Duke's Reluctant Bride. _It was the name of the book you were reading. You were telling me right from the beginning."

"Go on." Molly teased.

"The letters..." Sherlock stopped and looked at her. "The contents of the letter weren't important- it was the letters themselves. Violet and red. You placed them in front of me in different combinations, so it would be enough to confuse me. The violet envelope with the blood red seal. The blood red rose with the violet ribbon..." Sherlock looked at her again "The blood red dress and the violet corsage." He said in wonder. "You even linked flowers together." He followed, with admiration.

"The diamond earrings weren't a bad touch, if I do say so myself." Molly laughed without mirth.

"But...the rest, it doesn't make sense. Little Black Dress perfume. John Harrison, the dead body. "

"John, bless him. He's misguided but he tries. He was the perfect foil for my plan. Aristocracy are being robbed and a strongly vocal left wing activist is on the last minutes of his duty when the body goes missing? I would say it was too perfect to plan, but I did it. I simply replaced the body with a different one after my routine checks were done, and left you to connect the dots. I must say, it was a lot of fun pushing a dead body along in a wheely office chair leaving fingerprints willy nilly. Not quite as easy to manipulate a dead hand into picking things up as you might think, though. "

Sherlock couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"As for the perfume, I told you about that earlier, but you just werent paying attention. Despite what you might think, I am not nearly as clumsy as I let you think and, since when do iPhones move from the middle of a "call" to a particular picture in a particular folder after being dropped anyway?"

_The Christmas party. She was wearing a little black dress. _

"But...why? What was the point of all this, Molly?"

Molly got out of the chair and stalked over to him until they were almost nose to nose.

"You obviously didn't read closely. This is my game, and I'm calling the shots." she whispered, before walking out and slamming the door behind her.


End file.
